


Cover Version

by Lauren (notalwaysweak)



Category: Big Bang Theory
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bandverse, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-07
Updated: 2012-07-07
Packaged: 2017-11-09 08:38:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/453525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalwaysweak/pseuds/Lauren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Penny goes to a gig to check out a potential venue for Jupiter Logic's next tour, but is distracted midway through by Sheldon joining her. Inspired by listening to a lot of Adele and working at the Forum Theatre in Melbourne, upon which the theatre in this story is based.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cover Version

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allthingsholy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthingsholy/gifts), [betternovembers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/betternovembers/gifts).
  * Inspired by [every chorus was your name](https://archiveofourown.org/works/48345) by [allthingsholy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthingsholy/pseuds/allthingsholy). 



> BBT character belong to Chuck Lorre and Bill Prady, not me; I am making no money off this work of fan fiction.
> 
> I owe allthingsholy and betternovembers a huge amount of gratitude for allowing me to set this work in their 'verse, even if it isn't canon. I know my fic won't ever measure up to the original, but I wanted to share a bit of the awe I feel every time I walk into the Forum with fandom. (If you'd like to see pictures, head to http://www.forummelbourne.com.au/virtual_tour.html) If you haven't read the Bandverse series before I highly recommend it as it's an amazing AU.
> 
> * * *

Penny warms up with a lot of humming and scales while she tunes her guitar, and then launches into “If It Hadn’t Been For Love”. It’s tricky because she always gets stuck on the way that Adele pronounces “Louisiana”; either she elides it too short, or it comes out longer and runs into the next line. Still, this is just a rehearsal, so it can bug her, whatever.

“Penny, will you just skip that line and move on?” Sheldon asks, flexing his fingers in a way that makes it look uncomfortably like he wants to put them around her throat and squeeze.

“I want to get it right.”

“You’ll never get it right, it’s someone else’s song.” He dismisses the conversation with a gesture towards her microphone. “We have our own songs to rehearse.”

She gives him the finger and heads upstairs, already fishing for the cigarettes in her jeans pocket.

Raj catches up to her as she’s finding the least uncomfortable way to lean against the graffitied wall behind Stuart’s shop and flicking the lighter.

“He didn’t mean it, you know. Not the way you heard it.”

“That doesn’t excuse him from being a dickhead.” She waves the pack in Raj’s direction but he shakes his head. “When will he learn to engage his brain _before_ he starts talking?”

“He won’t. But he’s sort of right. Unless you’re in a really amazing cover band, you never sound the exact same way as the original.” Penny moves to elbow him and Raj catches her arm. “ _But_ , you can have your own version that’s also really amazing.”

“Like the _Glee_ cast’s version of ‘Sing’?”

“...yes. Sure. Just don’t ever say that in front of. You know. Anyone ever.”

The door beside the loading dock opens and Stuart peers out, his face breaking into a smile when he sees the two of them. “I thought I heard voices back here.”

“Shouldn’t you be out front selling our album?” Penny asks as Stuart’s arm slips around Raj’s waist and they share a kiss that’s not quite as chastely on the cheek as they probably think it is.

“I always have break time for you.”

“We should probably be heading back down anyway.” Penny grinds her cigarette into the ground. “I need to tell Sheldon something.”

Stuart snorts. “Good luck with that.”

“What?” Raj asks.

“I _was_ singing a cover. That’s why I kept screwing up. The original’s way different.” She pushes the door open and doesn’t wait for Raj; if he’s not down in ten minutes she can go back up with a bucket of water.

* * *

Sheldon’s got his I’m-not-having-this-argument face on. Howard is doing his best impression of a music stand. Penny makes a grand production out of readjusting her microphone height and finding her capo before clearing her throat and looking directly at Sheldon.

“There’s a fire starting in my heart, reaching a fever pitch and it’s bringing me out the dark...”

She’s about to start the next line and Sheldon’s eyebrows have drawn together over the bridge of his nose when Raj bursts in at the top of the stairs and belts out, “Finally I can see you crystal clear, go ahead and sell me out and I’ll lay your ship bare...”

Rachel and Jesse they most decidedly are _not_ , but Howard breaks out laughing and Raj bounds down the stairs and twirls Penny into a deep dip without missing a beat. Howard’s quick to leap to the drums and start the steady solid beat that underpins the song. Sheldon’s got his arms folded, but Bernadette gets up from her chair and pulls him close and the incongruity of the two of them dancing, her little blonde head resting against his ribcage, clearly loosens something up inside him, something that Penny on her own can’t always shake free, perhaps because she’s the one who tightens it up in the first place.

It’s not that their relationship isn’t solid; it is. It’s just that sometimes that solidity seems ephemeral, as though she could say (or sing) the wrong thing and it would suddenly all be over. It’s not just her though; he’s so sure all the time that he’s right that she thinks if she ever proved him wrong it would all come crumbling down.

Whatever. It works for them. Just because they’re not as conventional as some couples (if you can call Howard and Bernadette conventional) doesn’t mean that they’re going to break at the slightest touch.

* * *

The rest of the rehearsal goes smoothly and afterward Penny announces her intention to go check out one of the venues they’re hoping to play at; she’s got permission from the staff to go backstage and an invite from the band to watch them play so she can get a sense of the acoustics.

Howard and Bernadette both make their apologies, citing vague prior commitments that Penny knows quite well means going back to Bernadette’s for sex. At least it’s a step up from bunk beds. Raj says he’ll finish cleaning up the basement, despite the fact that they’ve put all their instruments away. Sheldon just says he’d rather go home than out, and Penny doesn’t have any reason to suspect he has an ulterior motive, unlike Raj, who’s probably trying to remember what time the record store closes.

She ducks into the bathroom and changes into denim short-shorts and a plain white button-down shirt. She debates knotting it at her midriff or something clever, but in the end just leaves the bottom couple of buttons undone so there’s the occasional flash of skin. She’s wearing a white lace bra underneath it that shows through a little and she wonders if the shirt’s a little too sheer, but it’s all she has with her besides the t-shirt she’s been singing in all day, and pre-sweated is not the look she’s going for.

When she gets out, Bernadette and Howard are long gone. Sheldon’s halfway up the stairs, smiling at something Raj has just said. Raj is holding a mop a little too expressively. There was a time when Sheldon wouldn’t have known what Raj was miming, let alone laughed at it. She’s glad he’s past that phase; sorry he’s not so innocent any more.

“Bye, Raj.” She kisses his cheek and starts up the stairs, stopping where Sheldon’s leaning against the railing. “Are you sure you’re not coming?”

Sheldon’s eyes are tracing the collar of her shirt, and it takes him a moment to respond with, “It’s been a long day.”

Penny feels too energized to just go home. She’s sure the venue will be fine, but she needs to be there, in amongst loud music and hot bodies and the atmosphere of a live performance to _know_.

She’s disappointed, but she kisses him, and he kisses her in return, hands lingering at her waist, and then she goes out into the beginning of the sunset, surprised by how fast the hours have passed underground.

* * *

The place looks like shit from the outside, which makes her obscurely happy; her favorite places to play always look like dives from the outside. Usually on the inside as well. The line’s already snaking from the doors around to the alley alongside the building, but Penny goes to the box office, gives her name and, like magic, is spirited inside. There’s a young black guy waiting to take her on a tour; they exchange names but because there are sound checks going on she’s not sure if he’s Rick or Nick or something else entirely.

She has plenty of time to look around the place before the doors open; she peeks into the foyer and sees the fans outside being held back from the glass doors. The foyer looks stately and aged, not at all the sort of place she’d expect for a loud concert, not with the grand stairs sweeping up to the upper level. On closer inspection she can see the way the carpet has been worn ragged from decades of feet, the handrails polished by sweat from thousands of hands.

Some of the fans are pointing at her through the glass and the security guard sweeps her back into the semi-darkness of the theater proper.

“What?” Penny asks. “What’s wrong?”

“They think you’re her.” He gestures to one of the promo posters and Penny sees the blonde locks of tonight’s lead singer.

“No way. I don’t look that bleached, do I?”

The guard flinches. “Ease up! I know you’re not here to see her, just the place, but you don’t have to be rude.”

“Sorry.” Penny turns away from him to hide the way her face is flaming and sees the venue for the first time as the fans must see it, and gasps. It’s a mélange of long bench seats at the back, booths with tables a few steps down from that, and at the very front the wooden dance floor, with the stage five feet off the ground flanked by giant speakers that rise up into the darkness like the Kings of the Argonath.

She thinks Sheldon would appreciate her analogy if he were here.

“It’s really something, innit?” The guard follows her as Penny makes her way step by step down to the dance floor. “Come on, we’d better get you on and off stage before sound check.” He gives her a quick smile. “Not that the boys don’t appreciate a pretty California girl.”

“I’m from Nebraska, actually.” Penny lets her accent roll back in.

“And I’m from London, but that’s not important. Right now both of us are from ‘not welcome on stage as of ten minutes from now’, so let’s go.” He takes her hand and pulls her through a different backstage door and up they go onto the stage. Old wooden floorboards creak alarmingly underfoot, but Penny trusts that the venue staff keep it maintained. Bands dying on stage would be terrible publicity.

She looks out over the dance floor and the booth seats covered with tattered old vinyl and the benches up the back with their padded seats and she can feel it, feel the deep love people have for this place. People don’t come here just to see any old band; they come to see the ones that they really enjoy, the ones that get their feet stomping and their arms waving and their voices raised to the roof.

The roof. Penny looks up to see a midnight blue dome dotted with stars and she can’t stay on the stage where she’s been put any more. She jumps down and steps over a tangle of wires to stand in the middle of the dance floor and get a full view of the décor.

As well as the color and the lighting, there are beautiful columns on each side arching up into the darkness, making it look as though the ceiling really does open onto the night sky. When she turns around she sees that the stage is flanked by a series of statues, mostly angels flying in the darkness beside the Argonath speakers. Some of the paint is peeling and patchy but it only adds to the feeling that the theatre is well-loved.

Nick (Mick?) gives her a few moments more and then subtly hints to her that she needs to get out of the way. Penny takes the hint and goes to one of the bars to get a drink. Everything’s overpriced and it’s either beer or premixed vodka and luridly colored soda, but finally she finds the house wine right at the bottom of the list. To her surprise it doesn’t come out of a box. She takes a (plastic) glassful and goes to sit in one of the booths to just soak up the vibe of the place.

She knows when the doors open by the way the staff come to attention – the bar staff, that is. The crew on stage just keep doing their thing. For a moment everything goes dark and then there’s a pretty whirling effect with the lighting that garners cheers from the crowd as they fill up the booths and the seating behind them. Quite a lot of people bypass the seating entirely, jostling for a position at the front, and Penny finishes her drink and joins them. She can feel the energy level of the crowd rising as the house music revs up and more and more people squeeze into the venue.

Penny buys and finishes a second drink before the opening act come on stage; they’re a trio she’s never heard of (and between herself and the rest of the band, she’s heard of a lot of performers), so she’s not terribly invested in being right up against the stage. She finds a place over near one of the Argonath speakers where she can get into the rhythm of the music and also sidle to the bar again if she decides to.

After a couple of songs, she feels two hands slip around her waist.

Lord knows she’s been groped in her fair share of mosh pits, but this isn’t some slobbering stranger seeking a one night stand. No. She knows these hands, from the moment they land on her waist, to when they slide down to her hips and pull her gently but insistently back against their owner.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” she says, doing a half turn so she can speak near his ear in the hope that he’ll hear her.

“I changed my mind. I decided to investigate this venue to see what was intriguing you so much about it.” His right hand eases inward a little, toying with the rhinestone studs on her pink belt. “Are you happy with it?”

His pinky and ring fingers are brushing against her bare skin above her waistband, making her shiver. “Mmmm. Yeah. What do you think?”

“There are a lot of dark corners in here, probably due to the style of architecture combined with the layout of the speakers.” As he says it he pulls her toward one of said dark corners, behind one of said speakers.

“So you’re concerned about what, Romulans hiding back here and then attacking the crowd?” It really _is_ pretty dark back here, but she can still see the curve at the corner of his lips and the slight negatory shake of his head.

Then he’s got his lips pressed to the shivery place on the side of her neck, and the hand on her belt is inching into her shorts, and she’s all out of jokes now.

The bass, the drumbeat, even the singer’s voice when she hits the lower, insinuating notes, all resonate with the way that Sheldon’s fingers work against Penny. She can’t see his face any more because all her energy is going into remaining upright, her back propped up against his chest, but she can imagine he’s got the same expression as when he’s focusing on playing the perfect series of notes.

His fingers curve against her, pressing inward. The side of his thumb rubs against her clit. She is dimly aware that she’s moaning, but surrounded by screaming people as they are nobody will hear it. She wonders if anyone saw them come back here. She wonders if anyone’s watching them. But the music and Sheldon’s unerring touch are working too well on her for her to care, combining and building.

When she comes it’s one sharp jolt, like a snapping guitar string, a single pulse deep inside her. She almost says, “That’s _it_?” aloud. But Sheldon’s attuned to her body’s reactions and keeps going, and the second climax is far better. An extended remix, as it were.

“I like this venue,” Sheldon says, lips brushing her ear.

Penny says nothing. Penny is too busy getting her brain back up to speed on how to stand up without her legs going wrong.

“I think we need to go find an alley,” she says eventually, voice shaking.

“I—” Sheldon shuts up when Penny rubs the palm of her hand over the front of his jeans.

“Alley.”

‘It won’t be the same as Stuart’s alley,” Sheldon complains, by which he probably means semi-clean.

“I think Stuart and Raj have dibs on Stuart’s alley now.”

“You think they—” Penny cuts him off with another meaningful rub and Sheldon not only shuts up but lets her navigate them across the dance floor to the nearest emergency exit. The black guy who was Penny’s security guard slash tour guide earlier is guarding it.

“No re-entry,” he says automatically, and then, “Oh, Penny, it’s you. Not hanging around for the rest of the gig?”

“Sheldon and I, uh, decided we needed an early night.” She’s sure he can read the truth on her face, in her flushed cheeks, but he just nods and holds the door open for them.

“I hope you can come another time,” he says and Penny clenches her teeth against the giggles wanting to erupt as Sheldon says thank you and that they’ll be sure to catch the band’s next gig.

* * *

The alley is quiet now, the long line of people all inside dancing their hearts out now, and it takes them about three seconds to find a loading dock out of the way. Penny wishes she’d worn a skirt, but Sheldon efficiently gets her shorts and panties off and then puts them down on the smooth concrete for her to sit on. He lifts her up and moves in to kiss her hard, his jeans frustratingly in the way. Penny gets her hands down to his fly and starts popping the buttons open.

“You’re insatiable,” he says, lips drifting from her mouth to her cheek.

“You’re the one who made me this way.” She’s got her hand inside his pants now, pulling him free, stroking him from base to tip, and they both shiver despite the heat of the night.

It takes a little maneuvering to get him into her – how inconsiderate of the builders to not make every surface possible to fuck on – but once he is Penny hooks her legs around his waist and leans back, bracing herself so she can meet his movements. Sheldon looks down at her hungrily and Penny lifts one hand for a moment to unbutton her shirt a little further; the second her breasts are exposed, covered in white lace, Sheldon bends his head to kiss them and cover them in little nipping bites. Sometimes their disparity in height is a disadvantage, but right now it seems to be working pretty damn well.

“God, Sheldon...”

“Penny.” He’s breathing hard, his eyes dark, and she can feel him tensing within her. “ _Penny_.”

When he comes he bites her shoulder and it’s rougher than she’s used to, especially from him, and sets off something inside her that makes her glad she’s got her legs wrapped around him. There is something about Sheldon Cooper that makes her inherently weak at the knees.

He slips out of her and Penny sighs before realizing that she doesn’t have anything to clean herself up with. She digs through the tiny bag that she brings to gigs and comes up with a crumpled McDonalds napkin. Sheldon just shakes his head at her and passes her a clean handkerchief out of his pocket.

They’re just doing up their last buttons when a light flashes up the alley and a voice calls, “You two! Out into the light, right now.”

“Police,” Sheldon says.

“Indecent exposure,” Penny says, and takes his hand, and _runs_.

* * *

They’re three blocks away in the wrong direction from home before Sheldon concedes they’re not being followed. Penny leans against a wall and starts giggling.

“What’s so funny?”

She waves a hand at him. “Just... us. We’re doing everything like a couple of teenagers.”

He gives her a puzzled look. “Is there something wrong with that?”

Penny thinks about it. She really enjoyed her teenage years, aside from the odd pregnancy scare; being on the pill has put paid to those fears, and Sheldon still has so many things he could learn from her that he didn’t learn out of a book when _he_ was still a teenager. Oh, she knows she wasn’t his first, any more than he was hers (for that matter, he was a lot less her first) but there are always more things they can discover they like together.

“No,” she says, reaching for his hand. “Nothing.”

Hand in hand they walk toward home. Now they’re not running from the police Penny has time to enjoy the feel of Sheldon’s palm against hers, his fingers interlaced with hers. They’re both a little sweaty and disheveled but it’s nothing that a shower won’t fix.

“What are you thinking?” Sheldon says unexpectedly.

“About how we need a shower.”

Sheldon nods. “One of the luxuries of not being on the road, and yet we’ve managed to do a good job of rendering it a requirement tonight.”

“Sheldon, if you stop using big words I’ll let you scrub my back.”

There’s that flicker of hunger in his eyes again. “It’s a deal.”


End file.
